


Take It Out On Me

by MagentasNightmare



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, DON'T LIKE - DON'T READ (I'm not changing what I write for anyone:), Daryl escapes The Sanctuary, First time for Daryl, M/M, Male/Male, Slash, Sweetness, ge, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagentasNightmare/pseuds/MagentasNightmare
Summary: Occasionally I write slash but not very often. Sometimes I just get inspired to dabble in it but it's definitely not my main area. lolThis is about Daryl escaping The Sanctuary with pent up aggression and pain, he bumps into Jesus who takes him to a place he's found in the woods to recuperate and they wind up connecting in more ways than just talking;)My all time FAV slash writer it Pharmtechgirl71 (she's great at other writing as well but her slash is pretty friggin' amazing!!!) so this is gifted to her. I'll never be the pro that she is when it comes to this genre so if you want the real deal slash go read her work:)Love Teagan XOXO





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pharmtechgirl71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pharmtechgirl71/gifts).



 

 

_**Take It Out On Me...** _

Crouched next to the door, he waited for sounds, footsteps, the clanking of metal keys against the door lock panel.

He was twitchy, and he thought he'd beaten that years ago. The closet he spent hours in as a child was so much like this bleak and dark room that he was regressing mentally.

He looked at the shadow of his hands before his face and wondered why he was made to suffer.

Perhaps some human beings were the punching bags so that others could thrive. Maybe he was just made to be sad, alone and punished.

He had a few moments in the past few years that made him feel hope, but overall his life had been painful.

Daryl shifted his weight when his hips began to throb; he didn't think that just sitting would get so uncomfortable, but after so many days it was agony.

Between the constant music, concrete floors, filthy clothes, and humiliation he got no peace from his suffering.

The end of the world had brought new and varying ways for him to experience dehumanization that it made his father look almost nurturing.

He'd had guns to his head, knives to his throat; he'd been beaten, made to eat dog food and led around like an animal in chains.

Daryl wondered why he'd even been born and if he'd ever feel right again.

The filthy sweat suit he was wearing was putrid. He knew he smelled terrible and yet they wouldn't allow him to clean himself; it was all part of the torture.

His captors would come to take him to another location, feed him or get him to the bathroom and he could see from their faces that he smelled like death.

One day bled into another, and he started to think of how to end it. There didn't appear to be any escape, and he was starting to crack.

Sometimes the walls looked like they were closing in and he'd repeat, "Stop it...stop...stop it...stay still," to himself as he imagined himself being crushed by the concrete around him.

Out of nowhere one morning, he heard the footsteps, and he tensed, pulling in his knees to his chest and praying it wasn't Negan.

A piece of paper was slid under the door, and he was afraid to touch it for a moment.

When he finally did pick it up, he saw the words 'Go Now!"

It could only be Dwight or possibly Shelley, but he had no idea. It didn't really matter either; this was his chance.

There was a bobby pin and a key taped to the paper, and he didn't think twice. If he didn't get out now, he'd kill himself.

Daryl rolled onto his knees and then stood up straight, his body aching from disuse.

He took the key and tried it in the lock but found that it didn't fit the keyhole in his door. He tried to remember what Merle had told him about picking locks but it was hard to think straight. A steady diet of abuse and dog food left him with less strength and mental capabilities than usual.

He took the pin and bent it until it split into two pieces of the same length. He bent one side into a 90-degree angle for a lever and stuck the other half into the lock by half an inch to bend it just slightly.

Within a few minutes, he had the first piece in place creating tension and the other squirming within the pin and tumbler system to release the lock. He tried to stay quiet, and as he heard each click in the mechanism, his heart beat faster.

The door opened, he slowly peered out and was blinded by the light in the hallway. He paused only long enough to regain his sight and then ran toward the door he always came in through, the key clutched in his hand.

When he finally reached the door, he tried the key and wanted to scream "YES!" from absolute elation when it fit.

The door opened, and besides the blazing sun it was hot as hell; then he realized how thirsty he was.

The walkers filled the yard where he was made to fend for his life for hours. At times it lasted all day before he'd be sequestered to his cell till his mind started to rot, then rinse and repeat.

He saw a fence and only one guard stood between him and freedom.

Daryl had no weapons and looked around him for something he could use to kill if he needed it. He crept, low to the ground along the side of a vehicle toward the guard and opened the driver door to seek something to defend himself.

A long and thick pipe wrench stood out right away between the seats, and he snatched it and softly closed the door.

Inch by inch he approached the man who was holding an automatic weapon but paying little attention.

When he was within a few feet, he stood and grabbed the man by his hair and wrestled him to the ground. He clocked him in the head once but very hard.

He probably wasn't dead but he sure as hell wasn't going to stop him now, or sound the alarm.

Daryl jumped up and grabbed the ledge along the stone wall that imprisoned him, he hoisted himself over and used the limited strength he had to do it.

He fell down the other side of the wall into the dirt and leaves panting with fear, adrenaline, and hunger.

The very idea of freedom was scary as well. There were things he didn't want to face, like Maggie.

He stood and found that his legs were shaking. Low blood sugar and tension were making him feel ill, so he walked away from the compound carefully seeking food and rest.

He hadn't gotten too far before he realized he was not alone. Someone was close.

He paused in a bunch of bushes and listened for a moment before he saw movement, and he clutched the wrench tighter.

Jesus walked out of the trees and stood before him, and he didn't trust his own mind.

"Jesus?" he asked, half expecting the vision to disappear rather than respond.

"I know somewhere safe, Daryl, come on! We have to get out of here!" he said turning and walking away.

"I need to get back to Alexandria," he muttered walking away from him.

"You have no shoes!" Jesus argued.

"I'll find some."

"Hey! Stop it, Daryl."

Daryl ignored him but he wasn't moving very fast, he was just being stubborn, and he couldn't help it.

The next thing he knew Jesus was grabbing his shoulder and he tried to spin around and throw a punch. Jesus moved like lightning, though, and pinned his arm behind him to push him against the nearest tree.

"You can't travel like this, Daryl...you gonna relax and listen to me?" he asked, his voice right next to his ear.

He grunted but nodded his head; he didn't have it in him to fight Jesus.

"You need to eat, rest, and get the hell out of those clothes. We can head back in the morning."

"You have food?" Daryl asked, turning around after Jesus released his hold on him.

Jesus took some bread from Hilltop out of his bag, and Daryl snatched it immediately.

"Do you have anything else?" Daryl asked with his mouth stuffed with bread.

"There's a well and some canned food in the shack, come on."

Jesus nodded in the direction he was headed and was smiling now.

Daryl followed and walked as fast as he could manage, his feet were already starting to hurt.

"You're going too fast," Daryl whined a few minutes into the hike.

"You look rough, man...what did they do to you?" Jesus asked, touching his shoulder and looking into his eyes.

"Torture...they fucked with my mind a lot," he admitted, and it hurt even to say it.

Daryl was dressed like a savage; he half expected Jesus to keep his distance, but he came in quite close.

"It's not much further," Jesus nodded, and Daryl noticed his bright blue eyes for the first time properly.

Jesus wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled Daryl's arm around his shoulder to help him along for the rest of the twenty-minute journey. Daryl felt self-conscious, but he needed the help.

"I'm filthy," he said, holding onto Jesus tight cause he didn't have much choice, he felt weak.

"You can clean up as soon as we get there, don't worry about it."

Daryl's feet hurt, and he hoped he could find shoes to wear and clean clothing.

They finally arrived at an old hunting shack; it looked rough and long abandoned.

Jesus led him in and said he'd grab some water from outside.

"Get your clothes off, and I can clean them for you before we move on."

Jesus left the hut and Daryl sat on a wooden chair in the corner and stripped off the sweater with the A on the front.

Jesus came back in with a bucket of cool, clean water and scooped out a cup of it for Daryl to drink first.

"There's lots of water so drink up."

Daryl took the cup, guzzled it down and then went for another.

He was handed a clean rag and Jesus sat in a chair in the corner of the room.

Daryl sat for a moment and then wet the cloth to wash his face. The cool water felt good, and he took the time he needed to scrub the filth from his body. He felt comfortable because Jesus wasn't even watching, he was reading a book.

By the time he'd washed his top half, Jesus was getting up again and asked him for his pants.

"What the hell?" he protested.

"You can't travel in that; it's disgusting. I'll wash them for you and we'll get going in the morning."

"I don't have anything but these pants."

"Here," Jesus said, tossing him a blanket to cover up with. "I think I saw some boots at the back door that might fit."

Jesus waited, but Daryl was still hesitating and guzzling water.

"Daryl, you don't have anything I haven't seen before," Jesus sighed, rolling his eyes.

Daryl stood up and figured he'd just go with it; he did need clean clothes. He was sick of his own smell.

He stepped out of the sweat pants and tossed them to Jesus without so much as a second thought. He and Merle would see each other nude all the time while hunting, so it didn't get to him too much to show another guy his body.

Daryl was still infuriated at the world and at himself, he wondered if Maggie would ever speak to him again but wouldn't blame her if she didn't.

All he thought about all day and all night in the cell was Glenn and Abraham, Rick, Carol. He desperately missed everyone and had no idea where he fit in the world now or if the people he loved were even safe from one moment to the next.

Jesus took his clothes out back and washed them in well water and dish soap before hanging them over a barbwire fence to dry.

Obviously, they were going to wait at least until his clothes were dry and he needed to finish getting clean and eat some food.

When Jesus came back in he was hunched over the bucket on his knees and wringing out the rag. He was handed a fresh bucket of water and some dish soap then Jesus sat on a chair in the corner as he finished cleaning himself. Daryl couldn't care less about being naked when he needed to get himself clean so badly.

He finished scrubbing the grime from his skin with lemon soap and then took the clean bucket out to the front yard of the shack where he dumped it over his head to rinse off all the soap.

Jesus asked him if he felt better when he came inside and wrapped the sheet around his waist.

"As good as I'm gonna," he responded.

Jesus opened a can of peaches in syrup and handed them to Daryl, who drank down every drop of the syrupy liquid and ate the peach halves with his fingers.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Jesus noticed how twitchy he'd become and how he wouldn't look him in the eye. He wondered what had been done to him at The Sanctuary. Daryl sat on the chair with the blanket around his shoulders and stared off into space.

There was a double bed next to the window, and Jesus suggested he take a nap.

"Thanks. They wouldn't let me sleep," Daryl muttered. "They kept me awake for days and...I got the point where I thought I was having a nightmare, but I was still awake. I couldn't tell the difference anymore."

"You can sleep now, Daryl. Sleep as long as you want, and I'll keep watch."

Jesus could see the relief in his eyes and he smiled, nodding to the bed to encourage him to lay down before he fell down.

Daryl climbed on top of the dusty bed spread and swept his hands over it a few times before deciding he didn't give a shit about a little dust. He flopped down on his belly and within only a few minutes he was out like a light. No pillow; just a blanket wrapped around his waist.

Jesus grinned and sat back down with his book and kept sentinel over him for hours.

_**/** _

Daryl opened his eyes in the dark, and for a moment he had no idea where he was. He was thirsty again, and when he rolled over, he saw Jesus just sitting next to a candle still reading.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Have a good rest?"

"Yeah, just thirsty again. They didn't give me enough to drink."

"They really took it out on you didn't they?"

"I thought I was losin' my mind, it just never ended."

Jesus got up and grabbed him a cup of water, which he held with both hands like a child.

"You wanna sleep now?" Daryl offered.

"I'm fine."

"Seems pretty safe around here. Why don't you just sleep too?" Daryl asked. "You got tins cans lining the perimeter right?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll hear it if anyone comes."

"OK. Move over then."

Daryl assumed he'd just sleep in the chair, but he shifted closer to the wall to make room.

"Pfft! Haven't shared a bed with anyone since Casey," Jesus said wistfully, remembering that Casey always slept against the wall as well. He'd told Rick all about Casey and presumed he would have told Daryl since they were so close.

That had been so long ago now that he couldn't place his voice anymore. He'd always recall his perfect face but his voice was disappearing, and he didn't know why.

"I never shared a bed with anybody but my brother when we were kids," Daryl commented. He figured if Jesus wanted to talk about women he'd let him know he had no experience in that department right off the hop.

Daryl just lay there on his side and watched Jesus taking off his leather jacket, his beanie, and his shoes.

Jesus sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, and Daryl felt funny as he lay down next to him and covered his body in a sheet. Daryl still had no clothes on under the blanket wrapped around him and laying next to another man made him feel funny.

"No matter how hot it gets I still need a blanket, stupid huh?" he laughed.

"Kinda," Daryl chuckled.

"That's a nice sound," Jesus sighed.

"What?"

"You laughing. It means they didn't break you."

Daryl realized he was right; he could come back from it.

"So what happened to your girlfriend?" Daryl asked, hoping to get to know him better finally. It looked like they'd be stuck together for a bit and everyone in the apocalypse shared their stories.

Jesus chuckled himself and looked over at him for a second although it was hard to see anything clearly with only a single candle.

"Casey was a man; I lost him over a year ago. I thought Rick would have told you."

He could tell from Daryl's expression that he hadn't known he was gay.

"I'll go sleep on the chair," he said, getting up.

Daryl didn't say anything for a few seconds but it soon dawned on him why Jesus was moving away and he didn't want him to think he was homophobic, he wasn't.

Daryl considered Aaron one of his best friends and it didn't bother him when he kissed Eric, he didn't think too much of it beyond normal curiosity at how it all worked with two men.

"You can sleep here, I don't care," he said before Jesus could settle in the chair.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, my buddy Aaron is gay too."

Jesus lay back down and sighed.

"Thanks, I hate trying to sleep sitting up."

"Yeah, it's cool. I don't think you're trying to sleep with me."

"I don't normally try to sleep with straight guys. Aren't you with Carol?"

"No, but I do love her. She's my best friend. I need to find her as soon as I can, I need to know she's OK."

"I'll help you find her. So you haven't found anyone since the turn?" Jesus asked.

"Or before, I spent most of my time bailing out my brother and scraping by."

"That sucks."

"Can't miss what you never had," Daryl said, realizing he couldn't sleep now. "I'm not tired now. Being in the dark all the time messed up my sleep; I couldn't tell day from night."

"We can talk if you want."

"OK, just sleep when you get tired, though."

"I'm good."

"What happened to your...boyfriend?"

"He didn't come back from a run, I looked for weeks but never found out what happened. I know he's dead, though."

"How?"

"If there was any way to get back to me he would have done it by now, he's definitely dead."

"That's sad."

"It is...I don't even know if I'll ever find someone else."

"You will," Daryl insisted. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it?"

"How did you know you were into guys?"

"I didn't, at first. I was in high school before I figured it out. I always had a lot of girls coming on to me; it was flattering so I thought I was straight for years. Then I met this guy one summer, and I realized that I couldn't stop thinking about him."

"So you asked him out?"

He found the whole thing fascinating, and he just liked listening to him talk.

"Kinda, we hung out and went out drinking at this party, and it just kinda happened, still can't believe my luck that he was gay too," Jesus laughed.

"What happened?" Daryl asked.

Jesus loved the innocence of Daryl's questions and was starting to have a funny feeling about his curiosity.

"We had sex."

"Oh, right."

There was silence then, and Jesus felt like he was talking to a teenager, a boy who didn't know anything about intimacy.

"Are you a virgin, Daryl?"

"No, but I haven't done it for years...it wasn't very good anyway."

"Why not?" Jesus asked.

"I don't know. It was just weird...it was always just girls that Merle brought home, so I wasn't really into it."

"And you never went and looked for your own girlfriend."

Daryl shrugged but didn't answer.

"There's still time; you could find somebody," Jesus insisted.

"How did you know what to do?" Daryl asked.

Jesus wondered why the hell he'd go back to that subject after they'd started talking about women.

"You mean in high school?" he asked for clarification.

"Yeah, if you didn't know you were gay till you met him then how did you know what gay people do?" he asked.

"He knew how, he was a few years older than me."

"Oh."

Jesus waited for him to ask something else, he had a feeling there was more still to come.

"So you've never been with a woman?" he asked.

"Nope."

Daryl shifted and rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands for a moment.

"You OK?"

"Yeah..."

Jesus rolled over toward him and closed his eyes, assuming he was ready for more sleep. He was just starting to ease into rest when Daryl nudged him.

"What's it like?" he whispered.

"What's what like?"

"Being with a man."

"It's sex, Daryl. It's awesome," he laughed. "Are you curious?"

"Maybe."

"I'll tell you one thing for free, Daryl. When I came out, I had every single person in my life looking at me differently. If you're curious then just go for it cause the world isn't judging anymore."

He could almost hear Daryl thinking and then out of absolutely nowhere he moved closer and touched his arm. This wasn't what he was expecting, but he was happy to go along with it. Daryl had suffered so much, and it was likely just that he needed some human contact. Daryl could be gay; Jesus had no way to know, but if all he needed was some attention and contact then he couldn't see the harm.

Daryl's hand was warm, and he just let it happen, he didn't want to spook him off.

The hand moved up to his shoulder and then fingertips brushed his face lightly.

"Should I stop?" Daryl asked.

"No, it's OK."

Jesus lay still and enjoyed the tentative exploration of Daryl's touch. He felt him shift even closer and found himself getting aroused by the knowledge that except for a thin sheet, Daryl was naked.

Daryl got so close that his mouth was pressed to Jesus' shoulder and his hand was laying on his chest. It felt good, and after so many days of pain, good was what he needed. Daryl found himself wondering what it would be like if Jesus touched him back. The world was so ugly and cruel that he just needed to be told it was OK, he wanted to be taken care of.

Apparently, Jesus clued into this and rolled toward him. He felt a warm hand on his cheek and the hot breath from Jesus' mouth against his lips.

The candle went out then, and they were left in pitch darkness together.

Jesus kissed him then, and all Daryl could picture were those impossibly blue eyes and his smile.

He kissed him back and was stunned by how normal it felt. Daryl's hand moved from his chest to his waist and pulled him closer. He realized he was getting hard and it only scared him a little. There was nobody in the world to call him out for this now, nobody to cast judgment.

He missed touch so badly that he got caught up in it quickly.

Daryl moved over top of him and kissed him fast and feverish, taking his tongue into his mouth and giving his own in return. He was getting out of breath but couldn't slow down. He slid one leg between Jesus' thighs and thrust against him.

Maybe he was going too fast, maybe it was insanity to think Jesus wanted this but it felt so good he wanted to break down, and he couldn't stop.

"I'm sorry," he uttered into his neck as he moved his attention there with his hot tongue.

"It's OK, Daryl. You're hurting, and you need to feel better...use me for that...I can take it."

Daryl took this as permission and really let loose on him.

Daryl pulled at his shirt and yanked it over his head; he couldn't see his body in the dark, but he wanted to feel his skin against his own. Jesus pulled him close, and Daryl wrestled with his belt buckle but couldn't figure it out in the dark.

"There's a catch to it...are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

"I'm sure. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but I'm sure."

"Let me show you then," Jesus whispered, moving his hand under the sheet to touch him.

Daryl was pushed back onto the mattress, and a smaller hand than his own closed around his throbbing cock.

Daryl felt a strange mixture of pleasure, anxious tension and a need to almost cry. He'd needed so badly for someone to make him feel wanted, and he finally felt it. He needed to feel good again, maybe to wash away some of the pain. Either way, he couldn't resist this and didn't want to.

He closed his eyes and lay on his back, Jesus all over him and stroking him out of his mind.

Jesus kissed his way down from his neck to his chest, pausing every few inches to lick his skin and Daryl ran his fingers through his hair wanting to keep his mouth right there.

Jesus got to his waist, and Daryl twitched, not knowing what was happening next.

"It's OK, Daryl. You'll like this."

Daryl trusted him, so he relaxed back against the sheets and waited. Soon he knew just what was going down from the way Jesus was moving his tongue up his thigh.

Merle would lose it if he knew he was about to let another man suck his dick but Merle was gone now, and he needed this.

Jesus used his hand and his mouth and didn't waste any time getting him there. It was foreign and erotic, and Daryl could barely think straight. He found himself thrusting his hips toward Jesus' face and threading his fingers through his hair; nothing ever felt so good in all his life. Being with women never felt like this.

Jesus squirmed his way between Daryl's thighs and pushed his right leg open to tease his tongue along his balls, and he hissed in agony.

"Fuck..." he uttered, never wanting it to end.

"You gonna cum for me?" Jesus asked, taking only a momentary pause from his task.

"Yes...but I want to touch you too," he admitted.

Jesus backed up, and Daryl could hear him taking his clothes off, and he got excited at the prospect of their bodies touching.

When Jesus came back down over him, he was nude, and Daryl could feel his hard dick against his leg. He reached for him and knew the moment that he touched him that he wasn't straight and this wasn't just an experiment.

He jerked him off the only way he knew how, the way he liked it. It seemed to work just fine for Jesus who immediately began to groan and roll his hips against him.

"You sure this is the first time you've done this?" he panted.

"Yes...am I getting you off?" Daryl asked.

"Keep this up, and it'll all be over before you know it."

Daryl was free and tired of feeling like a cooped up animal; he wanted to cum, and he needed Jesus to cum too.

Daryl sat up and grabbed Jesus hard, pulling him down to pin him to the bed.

He was shocked by his own aggression and also that Jesus was allowing it. Daryl was bigger, but Jesus could definitely hold his own.

"Dominant, are we?" Jesus smirked.

"Yeah, you mind?"

"Hell no! I told you before, use me how you like."

Daryl kissed his hard stomach and then down to his dick with his mind racing and his own cock aching.

He slithered his hands under Jesus' ass and licked from his balls to the end of his dick slowly like a tear drop down a mourner's cheek.

"Daryl...fuck sake!" he gasped, and Daryl squeezed his ass hard in response.

Daryl's strong hands and surprising domination were driving Jesus mad, and he had to be taken by him, he wanted it more than anything.

Daryl sucked him off and still held his ass in his hands, keeping him still, pulling him to his hungry mouth.

Daryl knew who he was and he knew what he wanted now.

"I want to fuck you," he growled without even thinking.

"Really?"

"I never had sex like this, but I want to fuck you, and I want to do it hard," he confessed through his own moaning and panting.

"Daryl, there's kind of a process to this."

"Then tell me," he insisted.

Jesus came in close and whispered that he'd need to get him ready and exactly how to do it.

The whole thing sounded new, and a little scary but Daryl was so wound up, horny and desperate he just followed along as he was told.

He filled his mouth with saliva and released it from his mouth below Jesus balls and began to touch him there.

Jesus hissed and writhed on the bed, unable to contain his need to be filled by Daryl. He wanted this hunter, this tortured and quiet soul intertwined with him.

Just when he thought Daryl had changed his mind, he felt his finger push into him, and he whined from the sweet pressure of it. It had been so long since he'd felt Casey's touch, and he missed him still.

Even so, it felt good and right with Daryl...uncharted and new.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Hell no...it's perfect, Daryl. One more."

Daryl did as he was told and Jesus really started to move, he jerked himself off at the same time and could feel the flames climbing higher and higher.

"Mmmm...God yes!" he hissed.

"Turn over," Daryl growled, releasing his hold on him.

"Are you-"

"Now," he insisted.

Jesus got up onto his knees before turning around and asked if he knew how.

"No, but I got an idea."

Daryl pushed Jesus down onto his belly and kissed his way down his back to his ass and then continued down to his calves.

"Please...Daryl, please."

Daryl pushed his right leg open and wet his own dick with his spit before bending over him, trying to steady his heart.

It was awkward and fumbly but after a moment of physical negotiation, it happened, and he was inside him.

"Jesus!" he groaned, moving slow and feeling heavy tension all over his body.

Jesus urged him on, ensuring him he liked it and could take more and he couldn't resist doing just that.

"Take it out on me," Jesus moaned into the dark. "I can take it."

Jesus knew he had nearly lost his mind at The Sanctuary and needed the release; he needed to purge the pain to let it go.

Daryl ran his hand down his back to take a handful of his long hair in his fist and fucked harder than he'd intended to.

"Mmmm...don't...don't stop..." Jesus sighed.

Soon it had built up in Daryl, and he couldn't hold it in. His palm was now pressed against the other man's back, and he was thrusting with every single thing he had.

Jesus was taking it all and panting between moaning like he'd never felt anything quite so good.

Daryl came with a grunt and choked profanity; he felt alive in that moment when he never thought he would again.

He collapsed on the bed next to the wall and now that he was satisfied he didn't know what to say or even think.

Jesus still hadn't moved; Daryl hadn't heard any movement anyway, so he nudged his arm, trying to get a response.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I'm good...still not sure I believe you're new to this, though."

"I never did anything like this before," Daryl insisted.

"I know, I'm just teasing. I just mean that it felt amazing."

"Definitely."

Jesus pulled the sheets up and sighed like he was going to be asleep in no time. He rolled onto his side away from Daryl to sleep and Daryl didn't like the space between them.

The first dim light of dawn was creeping in through the window, and Daryl wondered if he could continue the contact or if Jesus only wanted sex.

He reached out and wrapped an arm around Jesus and pulled him closer hoping he'd just go with it and he did.

Daryl moved the hair off the back of his neck and pressed his face to his skin.

"I like you," he uttered. "I feel like maybe I know who I am now."

"Good, I like you too, Daryl. I think we should stay a couple more days while you get your strength back."

"Sounds good to me."

"Now I gotta sleep so hush up," Jesus teased.

Daryl growled and pulled him closer but figured he'd try to get some more sleep as well.

In only a few hours since escaping The Sanctuary he was believing there was hope at the other end of his imprisonment, and maybe even real happiness.

Daryl fell asleep again quickly with Jesus in his arms and hoped it would stay that way.


End file.
